


Bara. (Rose.)

by Yui_Miyamoto



Category: Witch Hunter Robin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-08
Updated: 2005-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Miyamoto/pseuds/Yui_Miyamoto
Summary: (AU) While waiting for Amon, Robin spots a girl that curiously catches her attention.
Relationships: Amon/Robin Sena
Kudos: 1





	Bara. (Rose.)

**Disclaimer - Witch Hunter Robin / Abenobashi Mahou Shoutengai isn’t mine. “Rosier” belongs to Luna Sea.  
  
**  
With a hand firmly grasping onto my shoulder, he quietly instructed with the usual, “Just wait for me.”  
  
As I sat here on the steps leading to the beach with its near-white sand and the cold waves coming towards me with no way of reaching me, I glanced at the Golden Gate Bridge which clearly stood at the left side of the picturesque scene in the middle of summer. I wondered how normal it looked for a young girl in an almost dark, simple, yet Victorian-like dress to be with a handsome man hugging his long, black trench coat while walking away from her and their child.  
  
We never seemed to belong here or anywhere.  
  
We were always running. It wasn’t exactly running away, but it was to survive.  
  
If this was the way we could live, then we could only trust one another, right? To be alive was all that mattered, I had come to believe with all my broken heart.  
  
Then I closed my eyes for a brief moment while soaking in the sun as the baby in my arms laughed and giggled at watching a small dog running around. When I opened my eyes, there was a girl standing with her boots between her fingers while soaking her feet at the edge of the oncoming waves of the Pacific Ocean, which connected to the place of my birth.  
The dog pushed a ball towards her so that she’d played with him. Then, after a couple of laughs and throwing balls, she sat on the steps like I did.  
  
I looked down at my daughter happily. I smiled as best as I could.  
Even if there was always tension bearing down my back, it couldn’t account for the amount of lightness I felt when I held her in my arms. We touched nose to nose.  
  
The girl with shoulder-length, black hair started to sing. She sang loudly, not caring if anyone heard her.  
There was something about her that attracted my eyes so I glanced at her from time to time. I tried to figure what it was.  
  
Despite the fact that I was caught off-guard that she was singing in Japanese, she began to sing other songs in different languages. I didn’t understand them literally, but I could feel her heart in all of them. That’s all that counted.  
  
I liked listening to her and so did my daughter.  
  
“You like her too, don’t you?” My baby’s eyes lit up as if she knew what I was talking about. She gently patted my cheeks with her chubby fingers while smiling widely with her rosy cheeks.  
  
Her eyes and hair were as deep and as dark as Amon’s, but her face shape was like mine. She was absolutely beautiful.  
  
But I was scared. They would come for you someday too, my precious one.  
  
I caught a glimpse of the girl with the dark hair again. She was still singing with the hem of her summer dress waving in the wind and her arms hugging her calves. Her eyes stared at the ocean.  
  
“Yume.”  
Dream.  
  
Even when there is no source of life or light, then maybe you have to make your own light. That seems impossible if you don’t have the tools of doing so.  
It’s a strange thing that humans wish to live and transcend time when their bodies are but a luminescence that’s scattered throughout time. Yet, we continue to live, whether or not there are such things as “worthy”.  
  
I have often wondered what really was a dream. If you can get to it, then why is it called a goal? If a dream is not meant to be kept or gone after, is it really a dream? That’s a very strange thing to say in any time or age in which anything is possible and the impossible is just a heartbeat away. Yet, are there people really strong to simulate what should have been, what should be, or what should never come to exist?  
  
There are many things that we ponder on our individual paths of life. I wonder if I’ve gone slower or faster than I wanted or expected. It’s a funny thing when you find that you were at the place that you didn’t want to be but had to. Optimism is some kind of self-delusional tactic to keep you alive, but when it comes down to everything in the end, then you find out what it all means. Or at least, you hope you do.  
  
Then what is the point of learning and going to school if all you need is experience? From that knowledge, you can build more than from simulation. Then there are things that will always be pretend. I am quite tired of trying to figure out the best simulation for the most optimal results when there is really nothing to be so fast about.  
But time keeps on going like it will eat you up if you don’t even bother to breathe at the right moment. And yet, you are allowed to live. You are privileged to live as you are given the right to drive. (Even though I would beg to differ that there are people who just drive really horrendously. How they ever passed that damned DMV test, I will never know and will always wonder about as they turn or change lanes without the proper procedures.)  
  
So, what does it mean to be told that you always think you’re right when you don’t even feel that way. There is never a solution or a “right” answer, just the best one at that particular moment. I have always believed that. But I am one to doubt when peoples’ intentions are less than sincere.  
I have often listened to people and though I give my opinions, even those things are sometimes common sense or things that have already passed so they’re easy to answer. Then there are other things that I find myself coming to terms with. And maybe I should just accept that, I can’t help but believe like a little kid.  
  
When you forget what it is to openly love, then you become nothing but ice.  
  
I wondered what she meant. No matter how many years it’s been, I’ll always remember that nun that “cared” and feared me, as if she knew what I was truly capable of. But I know more than anyone that maybe she was right to say that I had a hard heart. But on the reverse, when there was no one to depend or rely on, what else were you supposed to do? Let everyone step all over you (even more so than they do today)?  
Yeah…right. Like I’ll be that stupid again.  
  
  
She has also said that I have two faces. And though none are fake, I understand now they different facades. Well, they’re not exactly facades, and not even masks or faces. They’re just different sides of you like the moon revealing itself at different parts of the month. They’re never the same and some are more beautiful than others. Then, there are some that are even ugly and unwanted. Yet, the moon that has so many craters is ironically one of the most beautiful images man has ever thought of seeing. Is it a delusion to see what you want to see or is it the pursuit of trying to accept everything?  
  
  
But some people are not so generous that way. Once they don’t like something, then they will go and do what they want. Of course, that is always the way.  
You have a choice, no matter what anyone says or likes to convince me of.  
  
Is that what makes or breaks the difference of a “witch” and a “human”?  
  
A person is a mix of things. And I’m not asking for approval of any kind. I have already seen many things and accepted many parts of myself. It just makes me feel horrible about how negative things have become. And I don’t really care anymore.  
There will not be something to repair it anymore.  
  
Listen and listen only not to learn how to listen. To complain and not to know how to complain in a way to find a solution, that’s why I keep my thoughts to myself. In trying to find the way to express myself without being too bitter while becoming considerate of other people’s feelings, I have found that I bound myself in a way that is like a Chinese puzzle.  
  
For, when you pull outwards, the tighter the grip of the paper toy becomes. Isn’t that silly? You would normally just pull away in order for it to be less painful. And yet, that logic does not suit the Chinese puzzle. Instead, you have to push as close as possible in order to break free.  
Is that the same as bursting or is that patience? Well, it is a puzzle. I may never know.  
  
But it is silly to think that deeply for a toy, or is it?  
  
It’s like when I play games in arcades whenever I can. I like to watch people play since I am not very good with games and so that is why I can watch people for hours at a time while being fascinated all the same from the first second that the person I started watching played.  
It is a strange thing because I suck at games but I have always wanted to understand the dynamics of a game in order to conquer it. Now, I want to be able to understand it to the point that I must know everything if the obsession will be quenched.  
It may be single-minded, but I like to do things one at a time in order to master them to their fullest extent with my own power. I usually don’t like asking people to help me and that is prideful I admit, but that’s better than relying on someone who will let you down. Or, maybe that person can offer you a good suggestion on how to do everything, or at least what you’re trying to master in the first place. That is what I shut out, but in the end, I usually find what I’m looking for.  
  
In the end, it all comes down to timing. Whether I was faster or slower in finding out doesn’t matter.  
In the end, when I want to find out, I will. I don’t like doing things half-way, but that puts a lot of pressure, effort, time, passion, and love than sometimes I can muster. There are too many things to do and of course I can’t do them all.  
  
And that comes back to my first question that started to think about when I first thought about the word the girl emphasized.  
  
What is a dream? Is it something that should become real? Something that shouldn’t be? Something that is a stepping stone for something else more awesome or deadly? Well, whatever it may be, it all depends on perspective and heart.  
  
There is so much one person can do when they reach their limits. Even so, I refuse to acknowledge my limitations even though I know what they are.  
  
Do I have a right to become mad and angry when people are so inconsiderate or when they nag me or when they think that they know everything? People have less or more experience than me, they may be kinder or meaner, they may have a lot of things to say, but I don’t care as long as I don’t ask for it. I just don’t appreciate it when people say one thing when it is the reflection of themselves that they’re put others down to make themselves feel better.  
  
Witches. Humans. Is there really a difference anymore?  
  
I don’t really mind anything, but there is a limit to everything. I am only human, or at least, I hope to think so. There are days that I feel less than that.  
Thanks to the lovely crew of wonderful people that I meet everyday. And so I question when people compliment me because sometimes they just want something.  
  
That’s what it all comes down to, if I were to simplify everything to this single fact: What can you do for me? Rather than what can I do for you?  
  
We owe each other nothing. We can give each other everything.  
  
And yet there is that part of me that wants to believe things will be all right even when things point out otherwise. There ARE people that push through.  
  
I wonder, do you have to lie to yourself to make it through? Is that honest? Either way, it will be a struggle.  
  
A dream is anything you want it to be. You can do whatever to it.  
  
I was wrong to believe that a dream is something could made by yourself though. I know how foolish that is now. You can’t fully embrace its sweetness without understanding its nature, its intent, and the feelings of everyone involved.  
  
When the girl got up, I finally realized why I was so curious about her. She had reminded me of myself. She had reminded me of the time that I couldn’t understand myself as a witch or a human. That I was only a wanderer in the world that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.  
  
Until now, I had to admit that I still felt that way, but with every hardship, there was something that I didn’t ever believe would be mine.  
I looked down at my daughter. “I think daddy will be back soon.”  
  
Even though he wasn’t with us most of the time, I was happy when he was. Even though we couldn’t ever occupy a particular area for more than three years, I didn’t care. Even though my daughter may have the powers that I wanted to discard, I wasn’t afraid anymore.  
  
I held my daughter tighter in my arms while watching the ocean and the glare of the sun upon it.  
I smiled wider with tears in my eyes, but I wouldn’t cry. I sang,  
  
“Rosier, aishita kimi ni wa  
Rosier, chikazukenai  
Rosier, dakishimerarenai  
Rosier, jibun sae mo.”  
  
I named you after this song I heard on the radio on the day we left Japan. It was by an awesome band named Luna Sea who kept their voice throughout their years as a band and their loved showed through everything they did.  
  
“It’s time to go.” Amon’s hand rested on my shoulder. I patted it and took up my bag as we left.  
  
My husband’s face looked stressed out again so I held his hand and stopped walking. I looked into his face and patted his cheek tenderly. “You always look so grumpy.”  
“Ah,” he simply answered.  
I smiled at him and he looked at me gently for a moment.  
  
Then, we were off again.  
This was how I found out who I truly was and where I was going in life. Through those eyes and those hands, I trusted him. Even if I didn’t know what anything else meant or where we were going, I found out that you couldn’t live without believing in life itself.  
  
I put my hand on Rosier’s head and pulled her as closely as I could to my body.  
  
Rosier, I want you to experience the world as it should be. And I want you to be happier than anyone else in the world. That’s all I want for you.  
I want you to tell me that the heart is always right, no matter what suffering or joy. That even if the heart has given everything and appears to be misleading, you have to trust it.  
  
Then, someday, you can tell your mommy what a dream is all about.  
But, right now, I believe in this moment.  
  
I hold onto the dimly lit sparkle in my hands. I hope that I can hold onto you until the end of time.  
  
 **Owari. / The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> There are times when you’re really off, and for me, that’s one of those days. As optimistic as I am, I’m quite disillusioned by some things, especially the self-doubt that has seemed to pervade my psyche. Nonetheless, I present this to you. I’ve wanted to do this particular fic for Witch Hunter Robin for about a year now. And now, I have been able to write it. It was inspired by a woman who watched me as I sang on that very beach mentioned.  
> And I wondered what the woman thought about me while also thinking that maybe I was truly lost and insane at the same time. It is always difficult for me to write a fic. It takes me a long time to think about it and new things pop up while I type, as if I’ve always thought about that particular thing. Then going back over previous fics, I realize, “I wrote this?” I sometimes have to remind myself that I can forgive myself.
> 
> Thank you for reading and again, happy new year!
> 
> Love always,  
> Yours,  
> Yui
> 
> Translation of lyrics to Rosier:  
> “Rosier, to the person I loved  
> Rosier, I can’t come close to you  
> Rosier, I can’t embrace you  
> Rosier, not even myself.”


End file.
